Hot Neighbor (Hot Billionaire Daddies #8) - Suzanne Hart Page 0,10

vibe in the air.

“I wasn’t pretending; he is quite a nuisance,” I say, rolling my eyes. Kim is still grinning. She’s not about to let it drop so easily.

“I maybe would have bought that if you weren’t blushing so severely that night. You couldn’t take your eyes off him, Blaire.”

“That’s because he always makes me so self-conscious. Always judging me. Making complaints about me to the reception desk.”

I shake my head and sip my wine. “His daughter is sweet, though. Anya. She’s five. We’ve started hanging out a lot lately.”

“You’re hanging out with his kid?”

“Yeah, so what?”

“Is he married?”

“Anya told me her mother died. About a year ago,” I say and look away. There’s a part of me that feels so sad for this kid, and another part of me that is also curious to find out what happened. I can’t pry. I can’t ask Trevor because we’re not friends.

“That’s so nice that you’re looking out for her, Blaire. You know you’re a good person, right? As much as you put on this tough exterior,” Kim says, reaching out to give my knee a squeeze.

I avoid her eyes because I’m not sure what she’ll see in mine.

“I wouldn’t count on it,” I tell her.

A few days have gone by before I see the Davenports again. It’s Friday night, and I’ve been working late at the office. Lacy called up just as I was leaving to say they were heading to a club later if I wanted to join them. I said I’d go home, shower first, and then decide what I want to do.

It’s Friday night. I should be out partying with my friends. I’m not sure why I’m hesitant. Kim is the one who likes to stay in and watch rom-coms on repeat, not me. Maybe turning thirty this year is finally catching up with me.

I’m standing at the elevator door in my apartment building, waiting, checking my phone.

“Blaire!” I hear Anya’s squealing voice, and I turn to see her running across the lobby towards me. I throw my arms open to give her a hug. Trevor must be somewhere close by, but I make it a point to not look around for him.

“How are you, sweetie?” I ask, playfully tapping her nose, and she mirrors the gesture on my nose too.

“Bored…I guess. Daddy told me not to disturb you so much.”

“Oh! Why would he say a thing like that?” I demand, scrunching up my nose.

With great timing, as always, Trevor appears behind Anya.

“Because he is trying to educate his daughter on respecting people’s personal space,” he says as I straighten up to face him.

“Yeah, it does sound like a personal issue. Like you have a personal problem with me,” I say, raising my eyebrows.

A brief smile crosses his handsome face, and then it’s gone. Replaced by that dark, brooding expression he is such an expert at.

“Very clever, Ms. Crawford,” he says and reaches for Anya’s hand just as the elevator doors open.

A few people step out and we are the only ones to enter.

Anya starts chattering about the delicious dinner she just had with her father. He apparently took her to a diner. The likes of which she had never been to before.

“And what kind of milkshake did you get?” I ask, matching her enthusiasm. I can feel Trevor’s burning gaze on me from the other corner of the elevator. I wish he would just look away. I wish he wouldn’t stare at me like this. It’s doing things to my body that I’m embarrassed about feeling in Anya’s presence.

“Can I come over now, please, Blaire?” Anya’s pleading snaps me back to Earth.

“Of course…” I begin saying, but Trevor has already stepped in.

“No, you can’t. Your bedtime is in half an hour. You need to change and brush and read your stories. There’s no time.”

Anya throws me a sorry look, and I gulp down the lump in my throat.

“I…I can do it. I can help her brush her teeth and read her stories,” I suggest.

Trevor and Anya are both staring at me in surprise. I have never been inside their apartment before.

Anya claps her hands with excitement. “Yes, Daddy, say yes! I promise I won’t stay up past my bedtime. I promise, Daddy. Please!”

Trevor looks at his daughter and then back up at me. His nostrils flare. His jaw is clenched tightly. I can sense he’s struggling with something.

“Okay,” he relents, but I know he’s not happy about it.

I haven’t even had a chance to change out of

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